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This Just In
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs The Swirling Demon, a perpetual hurricane that prowls the seas of Demaria, returns on its rounds - this time in the vicinity of the New Alhira colony...NOTE: This was a spur-of-the-moment RP activity drummed up by Sharpeye and Snowmist based on one of the +weather reports. *BUDUMBUDBUMBUDUMBUBDUBUM* -- SPECIAL REPORT -- A handsomely dressed Demarian with tan fur appears onscreen, looking into the camera. "We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special report on Swirling Demon--only on the Demarian News Network, with your host, Loudmouth Blunderspeak!" A handsomely dressed Demarian with tan fur appears onscreen, looking into the camera. "We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special report on Swirling Demon--only on the Demarian News Network, with your host, Loudmouth Blunderspeak!" "As many of you may know," Loudmouth says as colorful hurricane graphics swirl about on the screen, "Swirling Demon is a perpetual hurricane that prowls our oceans. To tell us more about this fascinating, and potentialy deadly phenomenon, is DNN's own Softeye Thunderspeak." The camera switches to a young female with black fur, clad in a sporty business suit where she stands in front of a holographic weather map. "Thank you, Loudmouth. Swirling Demon has plagued our oceans as long ago as 2354, when it is believed that a dangerous accident revolving around a weather-control experiment set off a chain reaction of meteorological events which led to the creation of the largest-known storm on any terra-compatible planet in the galaxy." "Many of you just experienced Hurricane Altheor a few short days ago," Thunderspeak says, motioning toward the map where a replay of the storm occurs. "And were grateful for the extensive coverage that the Demarian News Network brought your homes. Rest assured that we will guide you through this storm just as we did the last. I'd like to go to Grayfoot Sparklemind, who has some important safety information." Grayfoot nods with a smile. "Thank you, Miss Thunderspeak. We here at the Demarian News Network are here to help you 'ride out the storm'; right now, we're going to make sure you have all the information you need to stay safe as we are battered with all mother nature has to offer." Holding up a small spherical contraption, Grayfoot looks toward the camera. "This is a water purification unit. Everyone should have one as part of their standard-issue survival kit. It can be used if the storm breaks a water line and contaminates our available drinking water." "Another important item in our preparation list," Grayfoot continues, "is to make sure that all your window shutters are in place. Technically, most of the windows here in the city are made from transparisteel and are unlikely to break, but it never hurts to be safe. Make sure your shutters are well-secured and have no chance of flying off into the wind." The camera suddenly cuts back to Loudmouth. "Sorry to interrupt you, Grayfoot, but it seems our weather scout plane has just penetrated the edge of the storm and is about to drop a weather probe. Let's go live to Jane Abrams in the plane's cockpit right now." The view cuts to a shot of a short, human woman with shoulder-length brunette hair. "Thank you, Loudmouth. As you can see here, from up in the air the storm actually looks rather peaceful." The camera moves closer to the window to afford an expansive few of rolling white clouds. "We've experienced a small amount of turbulence while passing through the eye wall, but all in all, we're faring well. I believe we're just about ready to dump the weather probe." "Have you been able to get a view of the ocean? How are the waters?" Loudmouth asks in a voice-over as the camera shows two scientists preparing a three-foot-wide device into a launching cradle. Jane motions out the windows. "We're pretty high up, but even from our vantage point we can make out enormous waves. This is one fierce storm, Loudmouth." "Alright, we're ready for launch," one of the scientists reports. "Everyone back away." The plane's crew quickly move away from the weather probe before one of them pulls a lever on the wall, causing a section of the floor to fall out from under the probe, letting it drop from the plane. The wind roars as it rushes out of the plane before the floor is sealed again. One of the scientists busily taps at a console. "Barometric pressure is incredibly low. This storm is a real monster." "Thank you, Jane," Loudmouth cuts in, "but right now, we're going to go live to Yolanda Bertrude and her news team, who are out on a barrier island and are just now experiencing the forefront of the storm." The image suddenly changes--to static. "Yolanda?" Loudmouth can be heard saying. "Yolanda, are you there? Yolanda?" The shot fades back in to a view of Loudmouth at his newsdesk in the studio. "I'm sorry, viewers, but it appears Yolanda and her team are currently experiencing some technical difficulties." Loudmouth smiles at the camera. "Right now, we'll take a brief commercial break, and will be right back to bring you more of the information you need to ride out the Storm Of The Millenium." The screen fades to black before fading back in to a white room... filled with kittens! "Meow, meow, meow, meow... Meow, meow, meow, meow... Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, MEOW! Buy Meow Mix today!" Again the screen fades and then comes back to a view of a nice restaurant. "Do you want ice cream? I want ice cream. We *all* scream for ice cream! Come visit Glimmercoat's Baked Good and Cafe today, where you can get free ice cream every Sunday!" And then the DNN logo is flitting around on the screen, doing an interesting dance with a miniature logo of Swirling Demon. "Welcome back, everyone," Loudmouth says. "We've finally established that connection with Yolanda. We go live to her now on Skull Flower Island." The screen fades in to a view (albeit a staticy one) of a tall woman in a bright yellow raincoat. In the background, trees are nearly half bent-over, and sand from the beach is flying around violently. "As you can see, Loudmouth, this storm is quite nasty!" "Yes, we can see that Yolanda," Loudmouth replies in a voice-over. "Tell us, what would you estimate the wind conditions to be?" Yolanda's face might have been red with anger, except the rain is cold enough to keep that from being the case. "Why don't you tell *me*, you overgrown piece of rotten *beep beep beep beep*. What the hell does it look like the wind conditions are? Why did I ever take this job in the first place... what purpose does it serve to--" The view abruptly cuts back to Loudmouth at the newsdesk. "Sorry about that, everyone. It seems Yolanda's team is once again experiencing technical difficulties." Loudmouth rummages through the papers on the desk before looking into the camera again. "For all of you wondering, the hurricane is expected to make landfall in approximately twenty minutes. To explain what you can expect once it does, here, once again, is Softeye Thunderspeak." Thunderspeak nods courteously to Loudmouth before turning to her holographic map. "One the edges of the hurricane make landfall, we can expect winds in excess of one hundred and seventy kilometers per hour. However, the winds are not the real danger that faces us this evening. The most dangerous part we will encounter is what is known as the 'storm surge'; a dome of water picked up by the hurricane from the sea and carried onto land. This is the reason for the previously ordered evacuation of the docks." "Luckily," Thunderspeak continues, "this hurricane also moves very quickly. The brunt of the storm should last for no longer than an hour or two, though we will be experience rainfall for many hours after." Loudmouth nods. "Thank you, Miss Thunderspeak. We now go live to Redeye Roaster, who is currently down at the docks." Redeye nods to the camera. "Thank you, Loudmouth. As you can see behind me, despite the mandatory evacuation order, several residents of the docks have decided to stay here to ride out the storm." He walks over toward one of them, holding out the microphone. "Excuse me, sir... but can you tell us why you want to stay here? Are you aware of the danger involved?" The man, an old, short Demarian with graying fur looks up at Redeye. "Listen, sonny, I shipped my boat all the way here from the gods-damned past, and I'm not leaving her. She's warded off those Hive-a-whatmacallems, those little tiny people, and more. I ain't afraid o' no storm." "Well, there you have it, people," Redeye says, turning back to the camera. "They ain't afraid o' no storm." "Uh, thank you, Redeye," Loudmouth says as the camera cuts back to him. "We're going to check in on Yolanda once again...." The screen is fuzzy with even more static than Yolanda's previous broadcast. We see her stomping around. "Damn storm... what the hell do I have t--what? We're on air? Damnit. Oops. I mean, greetings everyone! As you can see, you do not want to be where I am right now!" "And why is that?" Loudmouth asks in a voice-over. "WHY!? You want to know why? I'll tell you why you--uh, why, right..." Yolanda says, visibly inhaling a deep breath as she kicks around some mud. "The wind is really, really hard! And the rain! My god, the rain! It's like pebbles falling from the sky onto our heads." Yolanda hunches down against the wind. "Any of you people at home... you do *not* want go outside! You hear me!? And if you do I'm going to take you by your necks and--" She growls. "SERENITY N--" "Uh, technical difficulties with Yolanda's team once again," Loudmouth reports from behind his desk. "We're going to take another commercial break," Loudmouth says, quirking a whisker. "More important and life-saving information when we return!" The screen fades to black, and then back in to a swamp with three frogs perched upon rocks. "Gli," the first frog croaks. "Mer," the second frog croaks. "Gli," the first frog croaks again, followed by the second from with, "Mer." And then the third frog finally chimes in with a last croak, "Coats." They put it all together in succession to get, "Glimmercoat's!" The screen fades out again, and then back in with a picture of a furless Demarian. "Has this happened to you?" the voice-over asks. "Your friends decided to play a prank on you with Nair? Then buy Rogaine For Felines today, and solve your problems of premature balding!" In fades Loudmouth, seated behind the newsdesk. "And we're back. I promised you important information, so here it is. We have Shortleg Thinkalot from Demaria Power and Light. Shortleg?" Shortleg nods briefly. "Thank you, Loudmouth. I just want to remind everyone not to go near any of the power transformers that may be located near your neighborhood. And while most of our power lines are underground, we do have a few that are not, and they have a chance of getting knocked down during the storm. If you see a downed power line, please call your local DPL office immediately. But above all, do *not* go near the line, as it could still be active, and quite dangerous." Loudmouth nods. "Thank you, Shortleg. Now on to Miss Thunderspeak in the DNN Storm Tracking Center." Thunderspeak nods. "Thank you, Loudmouth. As you can see on this map here, the first edges of the storm are just now passing over the docks. We can expect the storm to reach the city in about another fifteen to twenty minutes. Already, as seen by our Hotel LaSkywalker Cam, the wind is picking up as evidenced by the motion in the trees, but more definitely by our sophisiticated weather instrumentation." "How will this compare to other storms?" Loudmouth asks. Thunderspeaks nods again. "Good question. In comparison to Sunday's, this one will be noticeably more powerful, and we can expect more damage, but it will be nothing like Hurricane Furflinger that many of you may remember from some years ago." "Ah, Furflinger," Loudmouth says musingly. "That was quite a storm. Quite a storm." "Yes," Thunderstorm says, "that it was. But even if you lived through that, viewers, do not think that this storm is still harmless, as it is far from that. Stay inside your home throughout the entire storm, even if a period of calm sets over the area, as the danger may not have yet passed. Wait until the all-clear signal is given before going outside." "And now," Loudmouth says, this time with a frown, "back to Yolanda on Skull Flower Island." We now see Yolanda, with some other people from her crew, floating in water. The tops of trees are visible poking through the surface behind them. "As you can see," Yolanda says, paddling to stay above the water, still wearing her yellow raincoat, "the area is quite flooded... but we're hanging in there! Because we're reporters, and that's what reporters do! We stay here even when the weather obviously says that we should go inside! That's the perseverance and dedication brought to you by the Demarian News Network! Pause for effect!" Whispered in hushed tones, somehow still picked up by the microphone, "You're not supposed to say the cues, 'landa...." Yolanda wheels on someone off camera, swimming over toward them, "Not supposed to say it? Then why the hell is it on the teleprompter? And since when they start bloody making waterproof teleprompters, anyway!? Come back here, you--*glug glug*--you no good piece of a dirty son of a--" Loudmouth coughs discreetly as he replaces the scene from outside. "Ah, thank you Yolanda. We're sorry about those technical difficulties that keep cropping up." "And now," Loudmouth says, "we go for another commercial break and some special messages from important people."